After his unplanned layover in Helmer, Jamie was more than ready to board the train to Hazard the next day. Not that he’d had any problems waiting. No one else had accused him of being a government man. And little wonder, as rumpled as he felt. He had managed to shave in the little washroom at the depot. So at least he wouldn’t show up with a bristly beard.
He had to laugh at himself. He was acting as if Piper would fly into his arms and kiss him. While that wasn’t likely to happen, his heart sped up a little at the thought.
The ticket agent had brought him breakfast. Biscuits and sausage. “It’s not much, but it might tide you over till you get wherever you’re going.”
“This is great. Thank you.” Jamie’s stomach had been growling.
“I should have took you home with me for supper last night. The wife said so when I told her about you.”
“I did fine here.” Jamie took a bite of the biscuit and sausage. “You tell her I’m grateful for these. You’ve been more than kind to a stranger passing through.”
“Well, I didn’t want you to think all of us here in Helmer are like that Clem Baker. That man is so mean, poison ivy is scared to break out on him.”
“That’s pretty mean.” Jamie had to smile as his fingers itched to grab a pencil and write the man’s description down in his notebook. “He might have been extra unfriendly because he thought I was a government man.”
“That could be.” The man stepped back and gave Jamie a considering look. “Are you?”
Jamie wrapped his hand around the other biscuit and sausage, not at all sure the agent might not take it back. “Not me. I’m headed to Wendover to interview Mary Breckinridge for the newspaper back in Danville.”
The man’s face eased back into a smile. “That ought to be a story and a half. That Mary Breckinridge come down here and the same as moved a few mountains to get going over there in Hyden. She got them to build a hospital. You’d told me ten years ago that Hyden would have a hospital up there on Thousandsticks Mountain, I’d have said you were crazy in the head.”
“She sounds like quite a woman.”
“I reckon so. In spite of her being an outsider, folks up here generally favor her. My wife’s sister over that way might have died having her baby if it hadn’t been for Breckinridge’s brought-in midwives.”
“Brought-in?”
“Those that come down here to the mountains from somewhere else. Something like you.” The man nodded toward Jamie. “But these nurse midwives come from way farther than you. Some all the way from England. Imagine that?” He shook his head. “You’d think they would have been plenty busy with babies over there.”
“If I get the chance, I’ll ask them why they came.”
“You do that, and if you get that piece written, you send a copy down here to Josh Brandon. That’s me. I’ll get it printed in our paper too. The editor, he’s a friend of mine and he’s always after something to fill his pages.”
While Jamie simply used writing about the Frontier Nursing Service as an excuse to chase after Piper, the story possibilities were beginning to excite him.
Uncle Wyatt had tried to get him to see that when he’d given Jamie a little money for his trip, along with some advice. “I know you’re heading down there to see that girl, but pay attention to what other doors the good Lord might open up for you. Sometimes we find blessings where we least expect them.”
When Jamie climbed aboard the train, a woman stood up and beckoned him toward her. When he hesitated, thinking he was surely mistaken, she called to him. “I’ve saved you a seat, Jamie Russell.”
He had no idea how she knew his name, but one seat was the same as the next. She looked familiar. Perhaps one of his mother’s friends. She appeared to be about the same age as his mother. Not very tall, and thick through the waist. Gray was salted through her brown hair that was bobbed short, as though the woman had better things to do than mess with her hair. A sensible-looking woman.
Not until he got close enough to see her intense blue eyes did he realize this had to be Mary Breckinridge. He’d seen pictures, but people always looked a little different in person.
She sat down and patted the seat beside her. “I’m so happy you got on this car. The Lord must have been watching out for me.” She gave him a look. “And for you.”
Jamie dropped down in the seat. “You’re Mary Breckinridge.” He couldn’t believe his good fortune to be sitting beside the very woman he had come to interview.
“I am indeed. Was that just a lucky guess or have we met before?”
“I’ve seen pictures of you.”
“And where would a young man like you see my picture? Not only see it, but remember it. I must say I am complimented by that.” The woman smiled.
He figured he might as well be out with it. Even if she turned him down flat, he could still go on to Wendover to see Piper.
“I work for a newspaper and I’m hoping to interview you about how you started the Frontier Nursing Service and how it works for the people here in the mountains.”
“I see.”
He noted that she didn’t agree. But at least she didn’t say no straight out either. “I’m excited about the story possibilities.” A little enthusiasm never hurt.
“Are you now?” Her eyes danced with amusement. That surely wasn’t all bad. “After meeting me?”
“Oh yes, more than ever. Nurses on horseback are a compelling story. The ticket agent there in Helmer told me about how his sister-in-law had trouble having her baby, but the nurses brought her through okay. The baby too.”
“The baby too.” Mary Breckinridge looked down at her hands folded in her lap.
Too late Jamie remembered the background he’d read about her and how she’d lost two children. One of them only a few hours after birth. “I’m sorry if I brought up bad memories.”
“Oh no. Not bad memories at all. I cherish the memories of my children, even my little Polly, who lived such a very short time. She was a beautiful baby.” Mrs. Breckinridge breathed out a sigh and looked up at Jamie. “Sweet memories. I’ve never understood why some think a person dying means one can never mention their name again in the presence of those who are left behind. It shouldn’t be that way at all.”
Jamie nodded. He had noticed something the same after his father died.
“At any rate, losing those precious children set me on a different path in life. You are probably too young to know anything about such things. How life can change so quickly.”
“I know a little. I lost my father last summer.”
She gave him a considering look. “Well then, perhaps you do. Many have seen troubles in these last years.” She brushed her hands across her lap as though sweeping away sad thoughts. “But now that we have decided why you knew my name, aren’t you the least bit curious about how I knew yours?”
“More than a bit,” Jamie said. “How did you know?”
“Telephones, dear boy. I spoke with my secretary at Wendover, who relayed the news that Truda Danson had arrived for a visit and safely delivered two children to their parents. Or so we assume, in the case of young Thomas.” She looked over at him with raised eyebrows. “Since the boy is no longer with you, I can trust his father eventually showed up to claim him.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Clem Baker can be contrary at times, but he does care for his children. The people here in the mountains are the salt of the earth. Like these all around us right here on this train.” She motioned toward the other seats. “Good people.”
The man across the aisle looked over with a nod, as if he’d heard what she said.
She went on. “But we were talking about you, weren’t we?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Miss Danson relayed to my secretary how you volunteered to help with Thomas. I do think she was a bit overwhelmed caring for the two children, but we use those available to shepherd the children to and from the city hospitals when there is a need.”
“I wasn’t sure it could be Truda when I first saw her with two children.”
“It’s good for people to have a challenge now and again.” She peered over at him again. “Don’t you agree?”
“I like a challenge.”
“Do you? And what challenge are you chasing down here to the mountains? Merely a story about the frontier nurses or something more?” She gave him a searching look. “I understand you are acquainted with Miss Danson. And her niece.”
“I know the Dansons. Piper and I have been friends a long time, and it will be great to see her. But I do want to write a story about you if you will agree.”
“Oh no. Not about me.” She frowned and shook her head. “That will never do. But perhaps about my nurse midwives and how they help mothers have healthy babies here. That would be good. I do like getting the word out to potential donors.”
“My editor says his wife sends baby clothes.”
“Many do, and toys for the children at Christmas. People love Christmas. The first year after I built Wendover, I had a Christmas party for our families. Imagine my surprise when five hundred people showed up. We didn’t have enough toys for all the children that year, but since then we’ve filled the attic with all sorts of things to be ready. Every little girl deserves to have a baby doll, don’t you think?”
When he didn’t answer right away, she laughed. “I suppose a young man like you has never given much thought to little girls having dolls. I should have said a bag of marbles or a toy truck.” She touched his hand lightly. “I’m guessing you had lovely Christmas gifts as a boy.”
“Those were good times.”
“You sound as if they are past times.”
“I’m not a kid any longer, and my family lost everything in the crash.”
“Everything?” Mrs. Breckinridge peered over at him. “You appear to have your health. That’s a very good thing. And your good humor. You speak of a family and friends. Not to mention your youth and perhaps the talent and fortitude to take advantage of opportunities that might come your way.”
“All true.” Jamie smiled. “Very true. And I’m hoping that first opportunity is writing about the Frontier Nursing Service. That’s what I really want to do. Write. Perhaps a novel someday.”
Jamie had shared that dream of writing a book with only one other person. Piper. But something about this woman next to him made it easy to say. Perhaps because she had worked for a dream too after things were hard for her.
“Then perhaps you will.” She patted his hand. “Do you have a plan for when you get to Hazard? On how to get to Hyden? Where you might stay?”
“Can’t say that I do. I’m sort of winging it.”
“Winging it.” She smiled. “That’s how I’ve often felt in the past. With plans but depending on the Lord to open ways. Breckie—that was my son—I sometimes feel he sends me help from heaven. Do you ever feel that way about your father?”
“No.”
“I sense bitterness there. My advice to you would be to turn that loose and let it slide right down the creek and out of your life.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“No hesitation allowed. First creek you come to in the hills, you just throw all those things you can’t change into the water and let them float away.” She flung out her hands as though throwing something away.
“I’ll try.” He didn’t know whether he could do it or not, but it sounded good.
“Young people.” She shook her head, obviously sensing his doubt. “I suppose I might have been the same at your age. Sure I was right about so much. But I’ve learned a few things since then. That’s because I watch.”
She pointed to a young woman holding a baby in a seat up from them on the other side of the aisle. “Take that mother there. She’s tired. Bone tired. You can tell by the droop of her shoulders, but she keeps trying to comfort her fussy little one.” Mrs. Breckinridge stood up. “Excuse me a minute. I’ll be right back and we can figure out what we’re going to do with you.”
Mrs. Breckinridge held on to the seats and stepped over to the mother. She slipped off her sweater and draped it around the young woman’s shoulders. “You look like you might be chilled, dear.”
Jamie couldn’t hear the young woman’s answer over the clatter of the train, but he could see her face with its look of appreciation. Mrs. Breckinridge sat down beside the young mother and reached for the child. She held the baby up to her shoulder, rubbed his back, and appeared to be cooing in his ear. After a few minutes, she returned the baby to his mother and made her way back to her seat beside Jamie.
“You didn’t get your sweater back,” Jamie said.
Mrs. Breckinridge waved her hand to indicate that was of no concern. “I don’t need it. The sun is shining, but nursing babies can drain a woman of stamina and make her feel chilled even on a warm day like today.”
“That was kind of you,” Jamie said.
“Kindness often takes action. There’s a place in the Bible—James, I think—where he says if your sister or brother is naked or hungry and you simply say depart and be warm and fed without doing anything to make that happen, then you have failed your calling.”
“Do you feel you have a calling?”
“I certainly do. A calling to help mothers and children.” She fastened her gaze on Jamie. “I think we all have a calling. Sometimes we live up to it and sometimes we don’t. You lived up to a calling for kindness yesterday when you upset your schedule to help out young Thomas and your friend’s aunt. An act of kindness, don’t you think?”
“I didn’t think about it being kind. Just that Miss Danson needed help.”
“And perhaps you wouldn’t have been moved to help if you had not known Miss Danson, but whether that is true or not, the fact that you did has made me ready to help you. I will submit to an interview and send you out to see how my nurse midwives live and work in the centers we have established. You will have to find your own way to Wendover from Hazard, but once you do, I have a tent up in the attic that you can use while you are there. A week, perhaps? No more than two unless you find a way to make yourself useful besides writing a story.”
“Again, kind of you and very appreciated.”
“You look like a nice boy, but I know boys.” Her gaze sharpened on him. “I don’t believe you were completely honest with me about simply being friends with Piper Danson.”
Jamie started to say something, but she held her hand up to stop him. “Don’t bother denying or explaining. Just be absolutely certain that I will not stand for any unseemly behavior between the two of you. She is one of my couriers and, as such, is expected to live up to our rigid behavior standards. I’ll tell her the same thing. Here in the mountains, you must truly be simply the casual friends you claim.”
“Yes, ma’am.” What else could he say? But again, he wasn’t being completely honest. If Piper acted like she would welcome a kiss, he would remember Mary Breckinridge’s words, but not abide by them. A kiss wouldn’t feel like unseemly behavior to him.